A Kiss Remembered

“Miss Zimmerman is undeniably pregnant,” the judge told her. “We have an affidavit to that effect from a reputable doctor, Mrs. Robins. On what do you base your statement?”

She straightened her shoulders. “Mr. Chapman has shown on several occasions that he has no interest in this girl. Miss Zimmerman came to his house once while I was there and pushed her way inside. Mr. Chapman insisted that she leave immediately and not come back. At that time she promised to get even with him for his rejection of her. I think this is her means to do so.” She explained, too, about the time Pru had telephoned. “Mr. Chapman wasn’t happy over the call. He didn’t even want to talk to her.”

“You’re drawing conclusions, but I’ll let that pass for now,” he said. “On these occasions when you were at Mr. Chapman’s house”—the judge cleared his throat—“were you there on a purely platonic basis?”

There was a heavy silence in the room. “No.”

The judge’s eyebrows shot upward. He then allowed a few ponderous moments to pass while he tapped a pencil against a stack of papers on his desk. He looked toward the table where Pru Zimmerman sat whispering with her attorney. Then his hawklike eyes slid to Grant.

“Mr. Chapman, I’m not unfamiliar with that unfortunate matter in Washington. Whether you were blameless in that affair or not has no bearing on this. However, once a man is implicated in a scandal, he is vulnerable to false accusations. I remind you that you are still under oath. Have you ever had carnal knowledge of Miss Zimmerman?”

“I have not.” His voice was low, vibrant, firm, indisputable.

Pru Zimmerman squirmed in her chair when the judge pinned her with his stern eyes. “Well?”

Her face and her composure collapsed at the same time. She covered her face with her hands. “My boyfriend left me. I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

The room was filled with confusion. While Pru’s attorney led her from the chambers, she begged both Grant and Shelley to forgive her for lying. Finally, the judge recited the legal jargon that would officially dismiss the case against Grant.

When he was done, Grant lunged across the room, wrapped his hand around Shelley’s arm and drew her to a more private spot near the window. His hands cupped her face and lifted it up to meet the love burning in his eyes. “Why did you put yourself through that? The truth would have come out in only a few short minutes.”

“I wanted you to know how explicitly I trust you. How much I love you. Forgive me for letting you down when you needed my faith the most.”

He kissed her gently on the mouth. “I’ll admit I was mad as hell when I left your house, but I’ve had all week to think about it. One can’t really blame a bride for getting upset when her groom is slapped with a paternity suit on the day of the wedding.” He laughed, but it was a sad sound. “God, I’m sorry, Shelley. If we live to be a hundred years old, I’ll never be able to make that up to you.”

“You already have. By loving me.”

“But this may not be the last time something like this happens. As the judge said, my character and reputation will be suspect for a long time.”

“I can handle anything as long as I know you love me.”

“I do.” He clasped her to him as though he wanted to make her part of his body.

“Grant, why didn’t you tell me you had called asking for me years ago?”

He straightened to look down at her. “How did you know about that?”

“Mother accidentally told me this morning. Why didn’t you tell me that at the beginning?”

“I was afraid you might think I was grandstanding. Or you might have thought I was clinging to the past and not seeing you as the woman you are now. Once I knew how you felt about me, I hesitated to tell you. You were bitter enough about your marriage. I didn’t want you lamenting over things that might have been.”

“I’ll always regret the years we wasted apart, regret that I didn’t let you know what I felt once I was old enough to realize it wasn’t merely idol worship.”

“Let’s not waste any more time,” he whispered, raking his lips across hers.

“What do you mean?”

“Judge?” he called to the man who was straightening his desk. The judge looked up, surprised to see them now that everyone else had left. “Would you do us a favor? Would you marry us?”

“You don’t look like any banker I’ve ever seen,” Grant drawled from the door of the bathroom as she stepped out of the shower.

“And you just love telling me that,” she said, flicking her fingers close to his face and sprinkling it with water.

He took the towel out of her hand and tossed it on the floor. “Let’s just say I’ve never had a lech for a loan officer before. I’ve never had the urge to do this.” He covered her breast with his hand and rotated the palm over the puckering nipple. “Nor have I ever seen a banker carrying a sweet little bundle like this.” His other hand smoothed over the gentle swelling of her abdomen.

“It’s not so little anymore,” she said against the warm masculine skin of his throat.

“Do they make maternity clothes in conservative gray pinstripes?”